A Brief History of the Universe According to Malekith
by Spotted Dreams
Summary: Malekith has been alive for billions of years. He has forgotten more than almost anyone else has lived through. His mind was never designed to hold all the memories he created. The one constant that has seen him through all these years is gone. Svartalfheim is gone and the dark elves with it. Locked away he must come to terms with this and the knowledge he will eventually forget it


I feel like I am inside the mouth of creature, the air is oppressive, heavy, warm, it reeks, no matter what I touch my skin sticks to it like tree sap. I am in a square compartment just tall enough for me to stand in yet if I sit cross-legged my knees hit both sides of the glass. I am not sitting, I cannot bring myself to. I lay curled on the floor, my head spins as metal invades every exposed inch of my skin. I cannot recall when I last ate, or drank. I know I had to have done so recently because I fight the urge to soil myself. I part my lips and try to take in air, gasp and I am left gagging and quickly I clench my teeth and focus on not vomiting. I-I cannot even open my eyes. Sweet infinity just make it stop! I… I am tired… I cannot think, I cannot breathe, cannot do anything. The edges of my vision dance and swirl, fire burns in my lids and the world fades to nothingness.

§

I beg thee offer forgiveness my liege

For when thy attention is upon all but me

I find my gaze to rest upon thy form

And linger more than ought be pious

And when I finally move mine eyes

And seal my sight behind mine lids

I see thy frame free and calm

Unmolested by velvet, silk, or satin

Thy hair rests like water unbound

And I find myself warmer in thy image

I beg thee pardon such blasphemy

I know not why mine mind betrays me

It creates against mine will and finds you

You my lord, my guardian, wondrous being

It finds your sacred shape and settles content

I wish thee have mercy for such a sin

I sigh and close the book, my reading incomplete but I am too uncomfortable to continue on. I cannot say if the text ignite love or despair inside my ribs.

"What are you reading?" My eyes flicker up to the nurse,

"Poetry, a gift from an old friend," That is only half true, Melthia died before this ever reached me and I doubt she ever intended anyone to see it. However I do not feel like recounting that tale. "I thought it might lift my spirits."

"Feeling any better?" I nod, but the nurse is more observant than I give him credit for because he takes my temperature anyway. "Your fevers gone up… with all due respect my lord, I cannot help you if you are not honest with me." I nod again and settle deeper into the hovel of blankets I have formed for myself. Since when did he gain right to my thoughts? I sign and scold myself, he is only doing what Svartalfheim pays him to do. I should be grateful but this aliment has me bitching like a foxhound in heat.

The nurse keeps talking but I lose interest, I fall asleep.

§

It is cold and wet, those around me shiver and pulse the freeze stealing command over their bodies. I am not spared either, the air sinks its hooks deep into my flesh and I imagine this is what a pincushion feels like. The only outward sign of my discomfort is the stiffness in my muscles as I lock each joint and muscle tendon in place. I am not allowed the luxury of shivering, it would scare them.

As I walk through the camp for a light inspection I can feel the eyes of every being here. Most are of my ilk but I can spot a few of the Ljósálfar milling about, I am sure they are enjoying the new copious amounts of sunlight. I suppose it is easing the chill, the silver lining as it were. Our task is almost complete, I feel a sudden tug on my cloak and… it is a woman. How did she get here? She is holding something, my guard are equally surprised and for a moment no one moves. I wonder if they should be replaced or if she is to be praised for getting this far.

"My- My liege please-" Oh no "I-I it is my daughter." No please do not do this to me "Th-the light- she's sick." I look at what she's holding, fate make it stop.

"Ma'am you can't be here." Don't make me see it

"They can't treat her there's too many!" I made my decision, they can't all live.

"Here ma'am, come with me." They gently grab her but she reaches out and snags my wrist in a vice.

"Please she needs you, she's dying!" I can't it would be so easy but I can't.

"I'll give you anything just please heal her!"

"Ma'am let go!" I can't- I can't do it all but it would be so easy.

"Please just say the word-" It's not my fault! I'm not the one who did this! Why are you making me answer for it?

"Please, I know you can!" Damn it! I grab her by the arm and yank her close to me. I put my hand out over her bundle. The child is blessed in red for a moment and then the aether leaves her and her skin is clean, her breathing becomes steady... she is healthy. I'm going to regret that.

§

I open my eyes and blink… I am still here. The glass is suffocating. I feel better but the smell has gotten worse… Oh, well I had already planned to retrieve new clothes when I escaped... if I escape… I remember that mother and her child. They are still alive. In my mind they never die. They escape, they are on another realm. The Ljósálfar took them in. No… the sunlight would make them ill, kill them. Niffelheim then, there it is dark and safe, no monsters or Aesir or… the cold. The cold would kill them. They were dressed in threadbare, now that it comes to my attention I have to wonder how they even survived to reach me.

I… I cannot think of them now. I need to escape. I need to plan. I stare at the glass. Filth cakes it in a watery mask. I cannot see much past it. Shapes and color move in slurred motion, a world beyond my grasp… for now… I hope. Can I see the lock? A black square connected to the side in the mid height of the door suggests a locking system. Yet I cannot see any mechanics I- My head. My vision fills with smoke. No… No I need to think. Let me try. I need to- It clouds. I cannot see.

§

It is right there In front of me. The child has it… no, not a child, her proportions, the eyes are too small, the limbs long and thin. An adult, but her magic is young, soft, and pungent… like cardamom. She cannot be more than seventy five years of age. She is not an Aesir, why is she here? A pet? A slave? A lover? Her sent betrays recent intimacy but all her fear is honed on me alone. She does not know me, my kin, I doubt she knows the Aesir. She thinks she does. I can see intelligence glisten in those pupils, pools of ink set in a pale pink face. As I approach she moves back. Her breathe quickens, she stares at me. She hates her own naiveté. I speak to her. Can she understand me? I try to pour softness in my voice. Tone if not words should connect. I fall short, I can hear it, it scares me.

I reach out to her and-

"Stop!" I turn my head. A figure, gold, the insignia, this is the sovereign. He is old, for his kind. He has no power over me. He points his weapon at me, I feel its magic hum in the air, a twisted serenade. He has nothing I want. He can take no more from me. Not here, here I get what I want. I turn away. "Stop in the name of Borson." I stop. No, it's right there just take it and leave. I want to, I really want to, just once let it be fair. I shouldn't I should just take it and leave. I should- I turn.

I am no longer in my body. I am watching from the side. My form, white on black, it charges him, screaming. Contact, the Aesir, his struggle is short, it tears him apart. Howling, tears form a stream now a river. It does not stop it needs to just take it and leave but I want I want it more than I imagined just to watch it is not right it is not sound it is not needed but it is fair. It is fair and I want it I want it to stop but if I could just stare for yet a while more- I blink. and mind is one with body once more. I am on the floor my face burns and lightning snaps like bones. My vision is distorted I can see but- my eyes, one is blind. I'm lifted. I'm falling. I'm gone.

§

That is not how it happened. I blink. Muck in my eyes. It does not leave. I suspect I am sick. I cannot see but I can think. My mind, the aether, that is not how it happened. The woman died. The child, no not child, she was not there, an illusion. I should focus on freedom but my mind. It wanders to fantasy, I close my eyes, the vision returns but now I am aware. It is false. I am free.

In my head all is fair. Not good but fair. I strangle him, burn him, gouge his eyes and throat with my bare hands sinking deep in flesh warm and soft and pulsing returning slick and scarlet. Had I known… had I known had I known had I known had I known had I known I would've done it all. I would have dragged them down with me, pull them up by the roots and eviscerate them all. Let it wither and convulse, let all be damned and forgotten… No… that's a lie. Had I known I would have tried something else, slipped in hidden by the night, retrieve it while all are sleep, escape, be where I needed before they knew me to be wakefulness.

I need to escape… It hurts… My head… My mind I'm losing my mind, can I stop it? Everything I know tells me I need to leave to recover but… I do not think I can… It all… It all falls. All falls down. What is left- I need to know- all is dust and red it is all gone all gone all gone all gone- I… CALM! Stop it I need to think! Breathe, breathe, just breathe… A key… how to without a key… a rod- a pick- I need a pick, just two sharp sticks. My Hair is still in place. Perhaps… I move my hand slowly. My scalp, I feel a thousand lumps and clumps and pins. Pins! Maybe… Worth a try.

My fingers clamp down on a single sliver of silver. I give a gentle tug… nothing. I try again, a slight movement. I give a great yank it pulls free and my head hits the back wall. Damn it. I am slipping again, but the pin, maybe, I want something sweet. If I must remember let it be sweet and soft and serene and… smoke, I'm gone.

§

"I should not have done that." I am walking back to my tent. The day is over, I can sleep.

"Please don't say that." He whispers, we both whisper, the others cannot hear. It would scare them.

"They are all going to come to me now, I cannot. I have not the time I-"

"Please. Stop. She should never have gotten as far as she did. If you refused her they would be angry with you. You were damned either way, at least now she will survive."

"Might survive, Algrim, might survive."

"Please…" We enter the tent in silence. He secures the flap shut and with that we are alone, I release a sigh. I peel off the snow soaked satin, let the armor fall to the dry floor. Free at last, I fall limp and drop into the blankets. The metal inside me unlocks, and my body convulses, trembling as if it just now realized how cold it is, how sore, how bone weary. I feel the pressure on my scalp vanish as the hair stick is pulled and my hair falls unbidden around me.

I crack an eye open and he is here beside me. His clothes are gone too but he does not smile…

"I'm sorry…" the words leave me. I want to say more but he already knows. Fuck it, I will say it anyway. "I don't know how I'm supposed to react. I feel like I'm lost at sea in a storm. It all looks the same no matter where I turn. Logically I know there's land somewhere but I can't see it. I can't even tell if I'm going in circles. I- I- …" I feel gentle pressure in my shoulders as he works the knots from my flesh and close my eyes. My cheeks are damp. I let it flow, but only just. Those outside cannot hear. It would scare them, what I would not give for four strong walls around me. I could pull the hairpin from my chest. As if answering my prayers he embraces me and pulls the comforter around us like a shared cocoon.

"You know," I feel his warm breath against my ear as he speaks, "During a storm, when the surface of the ocean is turmoil, just ten feet below it's as calm as bath water. There's a way out of this, we'll find land. All we have to do is just keep swimming." I relax. My body unlocks further as his touch continues. His lips caress my neck his belly brushing my back. Knots untie and the hairpin falls from my chest but his arms hold my ribs together. I whimper and lean into him, he holds me close and our hips connect and- It's warm, this is our safe house.

My breath quickens, his grip tightens yet still he is gentle as rain. The last lock is opened and my whole being quivers then falls still. I am a rag dog, weak, limp, and I welcome it. I do not fear. I am at ease, I am … I simply am.

§

The room is bright. It is barely lit by a few candles but the walls are completely covered in gold which reflects the light over and over again and again and I cannot look anywhere without a ray of gold shinning in my face. I suppose I should thank Bor for closing the curtains but part of me suspects he chose this room on purpose. He can claim courteous all he wishes I know there are better rooms in the Aesir palace.

I resist the urge to sigh. It will all be worth it. I am going to leave tomorrow morning, and when I do I can put my mind at rest. The Aesir have conquered five other realms, making plans for a sixth, but not Svartalfheim. No, not here, I will not allow it… He is signing it as we speak, our agreement, our assurance.

§

It's far too bright. I'm not sure what they did but it is not suppose to be the bright. I have to squint my eyes to see past the glare. It hurts, it's too warm. They lead me down a hall, something about the light, something about Leera. They seem frantic and I really should be listening closer but I forgot how uncomfortable this armor is, I feel like a snake forced to wear its dead skin. They lead me down in to the medical ward. Past the emergency room, pass the burn unit, and past several other units to an area that was clearly refurbished in a recent rush job. The sign above the doorway simply reads: Light Unit.

They take me to Leera and- … His skin… It- Something is very wrong. Ugly black blotches cover his skin and rest like harden tar yet some instinct tells me if there is a pool of puss waiting just beyond. His breath comes in wet shaky breathes, like he is trying to breathe through moldy cheese. I can see his skull clearly as his if he is no more that skin stretched tightly over bones. His eyes flutter in and out of focus, he bites his lip and I feel myself fall into ice water as the nurse opens their mouth.

"It comes from the sunlight."

"What do you mean?"

"The sunlight, whatever they did they knew what they were doing. We aren't designed to withstand the rays. The Aesir, the Ljósálfar, their skin can withstand it but we can't… when we're exposed the light for too long the UV rays… they do this." They gesture to Leera. "We can cure it"

"How?" They point to a small IV I hadn't noticed before.

"We can use this serum to essentially burn the tumors out. We're not sure if we can save him, since we caught it so late, but he does have a fighting chance but… My liege… we need Lunmee to make it. The light it… the crops are shriveling up. It's very hard to make… We have a finite amount of the serum… If the light stays… We're going to have to be very selective about who we treat…" I don't know what they did. "But the aether can seal away the light." I don't know what they did. "You can fix it, in a little while." I don't know what they did.

§

I can see them. I'm in my library and through the glass. They're on the street there is no cancer in their skin, no hitch in their breathe, no filth in their hair they are healthy and clean and full of life. I can see them and I watch just watch as they mill about unaware of my gaze, content in their chores. I watch for hours. They're beautiful, they're mine, their gone…

§

It hurts. I can't – I can't… my stomach, it burns I look down. A dagger. How did that get there? Sticky red flows from my body. I need to – I can't let it show. They're all staring at me, concerned, they need me. I lock my body once more- But I can't… They come into focus. The pain ebbs away. I'm suddenly aware of a needle pricking the back of my neck. They can't see it. The morphine works wonders. I'm tired, so very tired but it's okay now I can manage. I can fix this, I will fix this. I-

The blade is gone, I'm in our bed. My eyes are closed. I lift my ears ever so slightly. Soft gentle breathing beside me, a gentle dripping sound and the hum of a small machine, and the needle is in my arm now. Outside the fabric walls I can hear them milling about they talk softly. They don't want to wake me, I have to giggle at that. They are concerned, they are faithful, it will all work out and they know it. I lower my ears, let them rest.

I'm lost at sea in a storm, ten feet below the surface. It all looks the same no matter where I turn. Just the ever present blue, and I embrace it. I am calm, I sink lower and lower. The lighting is but a flicker far above. I breathe, there is pressure all around pushing me down. Let it come. It feels nice like his touch against my skin yet all around me. The depths are calling. I close my eyes.

§

I blink. My eyes are sticky, the mucus has grown. I defiantly am sick. I can't. The door is right there in front of me the pin rests on the floor so close it tickles my nose. I am cold yet despite my efforts I fail to even shiver. I touch the pin try and grasp it but my fingers tremble and drop it. The effort makes me breathe deeply. I can't, I hate it but I can't. I open my mouth, my tongue thick and dry to large for my mouth, I close my eyes. Will I wake again?

§

The black sand feels good on my feet. It's calm. The sky is clear, the water ebbs and flows. On the horizon the moon glows a soft blue warmth. Behind me I hear the breeze float like silk through the star blooms. I am alone. I don't want to be alone. I lie down on the beach… It feels… nice...


End file.
